“I'm not really like a cop at all. I haven't got any actual authority. If someone does show up to do anything bad, I am not allowed to touch them or interfere with them in anyway. I'm a scarecrow. I'm like one of those plastic owls that are supposed to scare away the pigeons, but that the pigeons shit all over.”

“I'm gonna fuck it up, Pigeon. You're gonna get sick of my shit."I laughed. "I'm sick of your shit now. I still married you.”

“Sometimes I'm afraid I've got it all wrong...and then I know I do...and then I feel small like I'm supposed to.”

“I blew that clay pigeon to smithereens. I don't know why Mum got so upset. According to Uncle Andrew she's a crack shot herself. But she says I'm too young. What I'd like to know is how old does a person have to be before they get to do all the fun stuff?”

“I don't need more friends. You got friends and all they do is ask you to help them move. Fuck that. I'm old. I'm through moving this shit.”

“All this hoping for something- or someone- that's maybe hopeless. I'm having a hard time processing what I am supposed to believe, or if I'm even supposed to. There is too much information, and I don't like a lot of it.”